HINTS redux
by illicit.azure
Summary: Something is amiss, the pink haired child would stop at nothing to find out what. Uchiha Itachi just might be one of those hints. AU. Time-travel. sakura-centric.
1. Chapter one

Title: HINTS REDUX

Author: illicit azure

Theme: An eighteen year old turned twelve, Time –travel, and Sakura.

Summary: In her beginning was nothing, but to survive she had to be something. In which Danzo finds potential and even the smallest of potential can be turned into something – especially for ambition. And Sakura finds herself surviving, because she had to.

Author's notes: Here you go, HINTS REDUX. Although very much like the old hints, I took the liberty of making it all orderly and less confusing.

R&R :))

* * *

_What keeps me alive ties me to hell._

* * *

_._

_._

_._

_She woke up in a hard mattress, no memories, nothing. She didn't know what to do, but she wanted to get up – her body felt weak, so weak of being unused for so long. –so long? It felt like it._

_Gingerly she tried to move her limbs, weak tiny limbs tried to reach the floor._

_Creak, Thud. Her feet met the cold floor. Trudging her arms to her sides she pushed her torso up next. She could she herself, tattered clothes, unblemished skin save for the grime that stuck at her unbathed body._

_Suddenly, her body froze. Someone was approaching, her senses told her._

_She turned to face the door as it opened to reveal and old man – Danzo. Danzo. Danzo. The name floated. She could only stare as he walked in alone, closing the door behind him as he entered._

"_I see you are awake and well" she eyed him suspiciously as he walked slowly towards her, leaving a few feet between them. If she was possibly an enemy, he was either really stupid or didn't deem her as a threat. The last choice made her blood boil – she didn't like the feeling of being underestimated._

"_welcome to Ne, child." Without anymore preamble she felt him strike her left arm with a forceful and commanding chakra. As the excruciating chakra consumed her, starting from where he struck her, down to her toes, she cursed silently to herself for underestimating his age, and the fact that she wasn't able to avoid his strike._

* * *

Sakura, her name. It was one of the few things she could remember. But she also scorned but at the same time those little things that she could remember was what kept her alive – and at the same time what kept her here, tied to hell.

Danzo, that old man (which she never dared to voice outside her mind) had taken a liking to her little knowledge.

* * *

.

.

.

_It was dark…_

_She couldn't feel any of her limbs…_

_Her mind felt blank, she could almost swear she had to wait until she remembered just who she was…and her mind felt oddly devoid…_

_She could hear footsteps, they were heading towards her._

_Her mind became clearer; she could already make out 'sedatives'. She suddenly revelled at her knowledge, she supposed she knew a few things about medicine, along with the feeling of sedatives; her mind was unconsciously working her chakra to heal herself._

_In a matter of seconds she had already burned most of the drug of her system, her senses becoming more defined by the moment…_

…_and just in time before she heard something akin to a projectile._

_Without thinking, her mind urged her body to move, dodging the 'kunai' that went past her._

_Her movements were awkward, the IV on her hand, long gone._

_She had almost tumbled out of stiff table – she guessed, that doubled as a bed. Her limbs felt as if they didn't belong to her…her legs felt short…the way she had expected her feet to touch the ground as she instinctively moved out of harm's way…and her arms…she had tried to grab on the table as she fell, it was futile…and so she found herself sprawled on the cold floor, her left leg tucked awkwardly under her body._

_She tried to move and was thinking to herself, as she heard voices, she presumed somewhere in the corner of the dim room. She still couldn't exactly pinpoint where, her senses where still murky, something like a new born deer's._

"_Very good reflexes, do you think she was an infiltrator?" A very old voice._

_Infiltrator…they were referring to her?_

"_She was found bleeding out on the woods…" A monotone_

_Sure enough she had lost a lot of blood, the slightly brown patches on her clothes said so much. So she was bleeding out on the woods, huh?_

"_She doesn't seem to have any coherent memories, I've checked it out Danzo-sama, she couldn't be a spy…her mind doesn't have any restrictions, whatsoever." An odd voice_

_It seemed so…she had to almost struggle to get her name out. Sakura. That was all she could remember…and then 'Danzo-sama?' Images of an old man came to mind, the name seemed familiar…_

"_Medic, remove the sedatives on the girl, I want her partially healed, I believe you informed me of her unconscious healing. I want to know the scope – she could prove to be useful some day." It was the same old voice; she did not like the old voice, no, not at all._

_She guessed she was experiencing some kind of amnesia...she still wasn't all too sure…her body seemed to remember a few things..._

_The footsteps came closer…_

_Suddenly she could only see blinding white light. She covered her eyes with her arms, groaning as the light burned her retina._

_That was the last thing she saw before she felt a surge of chakra knock her out._

.

.

.

And somewhat, he took her to fulfil her potential – for his own goals.

* * *

(Sakura)

"_Welcome to Ne, child."_

That one sentence became the start of everything.

The first few months, these were the months that she had almost taken her own life away. She literally had to avoid thinking and being near anything – even a tiny little comb was dangerous – her mind literally made everything a suicide contraption.

Her sheets could hang her, those plates could easily slice her wrists, and even her comb would serve as makeshift knife. _And god, she could remember planning out her own death a hundred times…a bed sheet tied to the bed frame, the other to her neck…down the window; or that she would yank her chains across the lake and with rocks in her pocket she'd drown; and the one she almost-almost-almost-almost –her no doubt fool-proof, favorite scenario – a chakra scalpel to the jugular._

But something always stopped her.

.

.

.

_Something was keeping her alive_. There was something always nagging in the recesses of her mind, keeping her alive – she had to be alive and that was enough – _she had to survive_.

.

.

.

'_you have to sakura-chan…' 'sakura…please survive, ne?' 'forehead…survive, okay?' 'survive…sakura…' These voices, she wondered who were they?_

.

.

.

* * *

The things she could remember during her first months were blurs of pain, pity, and just a drive to live. The moment she woke up she was dragged from her room and into another and all of a sudden she had to dodge, just dodge and dodge because if she didn't she was going to bleed and die.

And so on and so forth her life consisted of fighting of one thing to live and fight another.

One minute she was in a room, another thrown back in, day in, day out.

She remembered getting used to being pulled back and forth like a little rag doll – until one day she was dragged into another…a classroom with assorted children. That was the day everything started to become a tad more, _less painful_, as the only description she could offer.

.

.

.

* * *

The children, like her looked as ragged as she did and the gruelling silence did nothing to ease her nerves. Quietly she took a seat, near the walls, not too far from the front, not too far from the back. She played safe, sitting in the middle, seats a part from the nearest person and near a wall. Walls always gave her something akin to comfort. After all, those endless bleak, gray walls were the only things she minded. The walls took away her pain.

She mused. _Walls are nice._

Suddenly, without preamble the man in front, the man she would soon call 'proctor' for the coming year spoke.

"I take it you have survived the first months – surviving means one thing, because you were good enough to." Loud. Monotone.

And then a stretching silence.

"We start with basics." He spoke once more.

And with that she began absorbing everything.

_Because indeed the classroom was better than before – and that she would do everything to be good enough to survive._

_She had to survive._

.

.

.

* * *

The first time she had ever been scared of the classroom was two months in. She was copying everything her proctor said, "ROOT is Danzo-sama. Danzo-sama is god." She scribbled. When all of a sudden a boy was called,

"number _fifty eight_ come forward." And a boy, with black hair came forward. He was nothing special. Nothing noteworthy, had he not been called. Sakura looked slightly up, watching the boy walk, just like the others did.

_Observe. No questions were raised._

The proctor sent him away, through the door no one ever question what was for. And then screams.

Screams she knew was from the boy.

_Silence._

"And that is our first example of not being good enough."

She waited that day – _surely he'd come back? Maybe he was tortured?_

"They do not live."

_Surely they would not kill him...?_

Sakura secretly counted each of her classmates the next day, and the next, and soon it was a habit.

They never became more than fifty-seven. She finds for the next few months they decreased. Sometimes they would just be missing. Sometimes, like the very first time they were called upfront, sent to 'the door' and never return.

The first, second, …seventh, she had freaked out. But soon her eyes became steel, contending.

'Not good enough' Sakura _tsks_, as she counts her classmates today. _Thirthy-two._ Someone was missing, but she didn't care, in fact had she not developed that little quirk of hers she would not notice…

She learned she did not have time to think what happened. She needed more focus. She was number _five_- and their numbers were dwindling. She wanted to survive – and for that she needed to be _one_, not number _five_.

* * *

A year later she finally understood why those _not good enough_ always died. They couldn't live, not after seeing what ROOT was…

A year later the numbers had dwindled down to eight. And she was nowhere near being _number one_. She was always _four, five_ – she was getting frustrated. They weren't teaching them anything useful…it was like they were letting them compete who would be the most _puppet-like_!

Mentally sighing, she couldn't voice anything – _she would never even dare to._

_Danzo-sama this, Danzo-sama that._

_Always about Danzo-sama being for konoha, being hokage!_

Keeping her face straight when the class – a good eight, was called in front. She was utterly scared, but she stayed calm, unblinking. Sakura held her breath. _This was it._

"_Come with me."_

And that was all her instructor told them. She was uneasy, and scared.

It was that very door – the door no one ever returned from.

But this was different, right? _They wouldn't kill everyone…?_

.

.

.

Walls.

There it was again, long, winding bleak walls.

It was dark, and she could hardly see what was in front of her.

Sakura glanced at her right, eyeing the remaining eight of her class, the very same people she had spent a year in those never-ending drilling of ROOT loyalty…but at the same time she didn't know them. They didn't even speak to each other…

She knew their faces, how could she not when they were already so few?

Names…they weren't relevant, in fact she thinks they didn't have names...

They all had numbers, each striving to be _one_ all the while avoiding becoming the last number…

Eight was shaking, not literally of course…

But she knew he was terrified…

She had been too, after all she was never on top, never _number one…_

_._

_._

_._

"we're here."

.

.

.

Sakura's heart skipped a beat.

.

.

.

Right in front of them was an outline of a huge door. And their proctor pushed open the large doors, revealing…

.

.

.

"Danzo-sama"

.

.

.

And with instinct, they all kneeled.

.

.

.

* * *

She curses that day, the day her tongue had been marked – to ensure their loyalty to ROOT no matter what. It hurt, it stung, but if it meant she was good enough to live another day she would take it.

.

.

.

But it was also that day she had been brought to another room, her former classmates, each to different rooms. But she didn't care, all she wanted to know was if she was _good enough…_

And then a handful of medics – she instantly knew they were medics…

"Danzo-sama specified your natural inclination; your abilities are to be mednin." "You must not disappoint Danzo-sama for he had set his eyes on your ability from the very start."

Sakura could only nod.

She watched as they presented her with a dead fish. _W-what…?_

"Danzo-sama will not be pleased. What are you waiting for?"

And then it clicked, something was familiar…and the 'Danzo-sama will not be pleased' was enough incentive. No matter how much she hated being a puppet, being a tool, that was what she was for the moment, and like ever thing else she would take it, because someday she would be free, and she would survive for now.

"Yes" monotone, just like they taught her.

And the fish gaped. Only to die once more.

"Excellent. On the first try too."

"Thank you Danzo-sama" She kept her bow low.

_She would definitely survive – because there was something she had to do._

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N: Edited again. I've had to reread a few things about Naruto-verse again and well, I haven't caught up to everything yet but I think I've grasp a few things (started with the time skip because I just really think I would never finish the thing from start). I think I remember some of the craziness that I call plot. Too bad really, I can't find my old notes on this thing. Anyways, I'll be tweaking a few things and correcting some mistakes here and there before adding content. I'm pretty surprised there's a bit of a following even before all the corrections. Like – wow. I'm sure I had to smack my forehead a lot when I read HINTS for the first time.

Thanks to my new friend Artemis for taking time to reread whatever old notes/plans I did find as well as telling me what to do (and in what order as well). Thanks Arty!

-Kat


	2. Chapter two

Uchiha Itachi has many definitions of peace, many of which he can never say outright.

* * *

Uchiha Itachi was a child prodigy, a genius amongst the genius Uchiha clan.

But that was what everyone knew-, they didn't know what lay behind the ten year old, turning eleven in two months, -child prodigy.

They didn't know that _Uchiha Itachi_ was a peaceful person by choice. He was at ease with nature, introverted, and wanted nothing more but to lay back and watch through half-lidded eyes.

He was a peaceful person _by choice._

_Peace. Somehow, it became his favorite word._

And for a ten year old turning eleven (in two months) it meant _a lot of things._

Peace meant observing ducks float in a lake across the Uchiha compound, the one by the east, the one he tries to pass by every time he returned from a particularly _bad_ mission.

Peace also meant sleeping at night without coughing -and coughing _-and coughing_, and having to stifle everything.

Peace also meant being able to eat dango from his favorite _dango stall_ and not having to worry being caught, chided or anything opposing his love of sweets.

Peace also meant being called Itachi-_chan_by his mother and not having her told off by his father.

And his definition went on, _and on_, and _on_.

But his favorite was the one where the Uchiha clan wasn't so _Uchiha,_the one where he and his brother played like normal children, one wherein they weren't shinobi, the one wherein his mother and father got along well, the one wherein his father wasn't the one pushing him to do this and that, the one where the Uchiha elders had nothing to do with his life, the one where he had all the time in his life to do nothing but read, observe his ducks and eat dango and play with his younger brother Sasuke.

Peace came to be his foremost desire, because with peace, everything else came along with it.

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

Today was Uchiha Itachi's birthday.

He was officially eleven years old.

However, unlike _normal_ children, he didn't have a small feast with other children his age; there was no games, no celebration. Instead at exactly six in the morning he was greeted by his mother, softly whispering "I'm sorry Itachi-chan" to the air half meant to be heard by his ears, half meant to be blown away. An hour later he was by his father's side in his full chuunin uniform, being ushered in the hokage's tower.

"Good morning, Hokage-sama." Stiff and polite, just like his father taught him.

And with his greeting his father resumes persuading the third to move his rank higher.

Itachi patiently waits for the third's answer. He knows that the third will no longer be able to dissuade his father – a year was enough, practically a martyr's wait for his father. Uchiha Itachi, age eleven was going to be jounin, yet another feat…but to him it just meant harder missions…more pain to come by his hands.

In a moment of weakness, Itachi allows himself to show his distress, his eyes closing slowly as if resigning his fate.

.

.

.

And he waits.

.

.

.

"The jounin exams will be cancelled – let alone a special jounin test, I am afraid Fugaku-san, will have to be re-scheduled."

"WHAT?" Uchiha Fugaku was in outrage.

"Konoha is busy."

"This is impossible!" Itachi's spirits felt high, silently thanking the third for whatever excuse he was about to utter, not at all expecting the truth.

"But on the contrary, Konoha is busy removing _rats_" The third was completely serious, leaving no room for argument.

"Konoha is busy, Fugaku-san, very busy. I do hope you do not make this village any busier, I do think I might not be able to cope –the village might not be able to cope." And at that Uchiha Fugaku decides that another day will do.

His own father slightly red in the face with anger-

And Itachi grins, the miniscule emotion only to be seem by the hokage's personal guards.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Uchiha Itachi was eleven and two months old, and it was the first time he had stumbled over in pain with anyone remotely near.

.

.

.

It had also been the day that Haruno Sakura knew this was not her life.

* * *

.

.

.

The tiny child at her feet sputtered blood and she stood there transfixed. He had black hair and if she was not sure he had crimson eyes as he stared back, she would have insisted he had onyx orbs.

She hadn't cared to avoid detection; he would not remember anything – if he even lived to ponder on the child sized blur as he coughed his lungs out.

Feeling impartial at the world, Sakura bent slowly crouching on the floor. It gave her a sense of morbidity as she clutched at his black stranded hair, this could be her.

"W-who?" He uttered

And then the world became impossibly squeezed as if she was being dragged off somewhere through a narrow passage.

Then she was him looking at his world through lidded eyes.

.

.

.

_It was raining and never before had he been outside to feel fat droplets and hear the quiet pitter patter not just in front of him but everywhere. It was wonderful, one more thing he knew his parents would scold him for. But he was four; surely they would let it go? It hadn't been his fault entirely – if his mother hadn't forgotten to bolt the door as always he wouldn't be outside._

_A small movement on his right caught his attention. It was a butterfly swerving left and right to avoid the droplets of rain. What would it feel like to be so small and insignificant? To feel the world against you? A drop landed on the creature, it faltering before shaking away what must have been an awful lot of water. Once again it fluttered its wings faster to avoid the onslaught._

_He wasn't like most children, Itachi thought._

_He hadn't run across their yard arms open yelling child phrases, nor did he jump onto mud puddles._

_Rather, in an exaggerated slowness he made his way to the butterfly, with the same slowness he cupped his hands capturing the tiny insect before making his way to a tree._

"_Stay" He utters_

_And the butterfly makes no heed. It flies away from shelter and into the rain once more._

_He captures the insect once more_

"_My name is Itachi. Stay, please butterfly"_

_He does not release him and sits under the tree with uncanny stillness._

"_Itachi? Itachi!" his mother screams_

_._

_._

_._

Then she was him no longer, merely a phantom unseen.

.

.

.

"_Then what else are we to do then? Allow this treachery reach our villagers' ears? Start upon a war that will cripple the leaf?" There was a buzzing sound that inclined the entire council's agreement__  
__"Homura, please listen"__  
__"To what? Your pleas are nothing there is nothing beneath them" A few jeered.__  
__"What is a small bloodshed for all of leaf?"__  
__"Small? An entire clan is no-"__  
__"It is. There is no other way. We've given you enough time yet nothing is produced against it"__  
__" Our reasoning is sound...third" It was Danzo, his voice like a bolt of lightning against her spine__  
__"For leaf"_

_The boy Sakura noticed was no more than thirteen, much older than her odd vision of his memory and years away from what she saw him from earlier on, before all this odd sequence._

_Droplets of water had long dried suspiciously underneath him and his posture was stiff as he kneeled with his head bowed before them._

.

.

.

There was a semblance of understanding forming in her mind, too complex and too muddy to truly make sense but it was there.

Slightly shaking, she withdrew herself from her position before running back towards firm ground.  
Everything revolved around the old man so it seems, but there was something about the black haired boy too.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Sakura was logical. These 'Visions' as she called them had meaning to them. They were things that all lead to her current predicament. Was she crazy? Clairvoyant? It didn't matter.

All she had to figure out was what it meant.

.

.

.

.

.

Solution came a week after.

.

.

.

"Pick them up. Read them and memorize them." Clambering to the pile of paper, Sakura frowned. It was information on a clan she had heard before but far more detailed. Hearing her door close with a resounding click and the tell tale sounds of soft clicking of boots; the rosette adapted a more relaxed posture.

_It's him._ The dark haired child from a few days ago.

The pile of paper on the foot of her bed consisted of reports about the Uchiha clan, some profiles of its notable members and a whole section dedicated to the 'Uchiha prodigy – Uchiha Itachi"

It had his name, his birthday, his list of mission, a picture of a black haired boy with equally black eyes, and a handwritten account of a medic's observation on his eyes.

The Sharingan.

_The sharingan is passed down from one Uchiha to another. The trait behaves for most parts as recessive. There are accounts of blindness upon excessive exposure, notable of which is the Uchiha forefather Madara. The eyes, which appear red with tiny tomoe, originate from the pupil upon activation and spin outward to about mid position. Heavy deposits of-_

Sakura eyes the text quickly to the latter part. She'd read much about them already.

_Genetic aberration most likely from inbreeding  
scarring on lung tissue, _

Sakura stopped at the current line and the turned the pages back to re-read the whole account in detail. She didn't want to take a chance on missing a detail or forming incoherent musings because she'd missed a word or two.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

Sakura removed the crick from her neck. She'd taken to memorizing the whole pile, scribbling notes on loose sheets of paper she'd been given for her studies on medicine and alternating between re-reading and taking down symbols or meanings, there was just so much information to gleam she half expected anyone to barge in and take whatever she had produced any minute.

Which lead her to forming her own code. It wouldn't stand up against Danzo if she was explicitly orders to spill the beans but it worked enough if she wasn't in any way suspicious.

She was doing a parallel research.

The one she was itching to do (the hand written account meant something) and the other her curiosity.

It was a gamble, it showed initiative – that she was something more than just a puppet. But she was given enough breadth; during her times of ingenuity Danzo only gave her an appraising look.

Her writing was slowly becoming less than perfect, she had variations of 'A's 'S's and so on. She was integrating whatever she found that bore clues about her beginnings, hints, of what and who she was supposed to be.

There was something brewing.

She could feel it, the old man was plotting and it had every bearing that she was to be involved in it, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

.

.

.

Tap, tap, tap, her door went.

"Follow me" A man she'd come to call in her head as her jailor beckoned.

Left, forward and ignore the next three splits, left, left by that door, forward until the end of the corridor and finally a right. _I've memorized this route, enough to be able to jog with eyes closed._

The man twisted the knob before leaving her to enter.

This was her training room and the occupants, her teachers.

"The eyeball is our subject of interest today, the ease of preservation and transfer as well as the diversity of techniques clans..."

Without preamble one of the men in white lectured, not even waiting for her to take her seat.

She was right though, there was something brewing.

.

.

.

* * *

It was the seventh day from when a pile of information had been given to her and this time, she was lead to another room on wherein she dropped to her knees as quickly as she could.

Danzo was inside.

"Choose a name child" his stance was almost that of an elderly beckoning a grandchild to be at ease despite her position on the stone floor.

Her heart was beating faster.

She knew what this meant – she was to be given a long term mission!

"Sakura" She uttered as unassuming and meek as she could.

There was a humming sound, like he was considering her choice before he let out, "Unassuming, common, I do not mind. That shall be your name"

Danzo stood, his guards stepping further away into the shadows.

"How old is the Uchiha heir?"

"Eleven sir" The exchange more like pleasantries of insignificant things

"What's his name?" It was unlikely he didn't know of it

"Uchiha Itachi" but Sakura answers

"Your name?"

"Sakura"

"Ah. Your true identity, the one you keep in my confidence?"

Sakura bowed and answered, "I am of the Ne, your servant"

"Correct. You are of my army," Danzo rose his cane and so quickly it descended upon her cheek that Sakura almost lost composure.

She remained rooted on the spot as the man tilted her face forward with the same cane "and that is so that you remember your vows"

Clank, wood met stone and he was away.

Sakura tucks her mission into her leg pouch.

And so, it begins.

[Chapter end]

* * *

A/N: The most frustrating thing about fanfiction is they delete things. Heck, they even delete my spaces! I do apologize with my "updates" as I've forgotten how frustrating this site is. I keep on getting distressed when I see a chapter completely defaced with the new content missing as well. Lord, I can't even fathom what I have to do - or the annoyance editing everything else would do. Uh.

And oh, Sakura's thirteen by this time and Itachi eleven. I apologize for the lack of action. Still, yet again another filler.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes: Hello, if you happen to fancy my story a review would be lovely!

* * *

HINTS

Chapter three

* * *

"I have to act like a kid, huh?" Sakura stared at the night sky, the brightest star catching her eye.

There were lore that people, when they died emerged from their bodies and rise into the sky to form stars. The one she was looking at, Sirius, if she was correct, reminded her of someone. A friend, a parent, a sibling? She couldn't remember but she knew one thing - that star reminded her of what she had to do - survive.

This taste of freedom, she was in a ruse that made herself as some adopted orphan of Danzo whose 'parent' had been abusive who just happened to die the moment there was an opening in a team. She knew that for this ruse a man who was most likely a homeless person of no consequence (but certainly not deserving) had died. She'd listened to the entire story - memorized everything out of pure habit and she was sure there had to be something more.

But tonight, she thinks no more.

_Today_,Tonight, she acts like a rebellious child who ought to show more respect to a man who had in goodwill taken her in - ironic really, and then not really. Her mind was jumbled but she would be fine.

_The boy should arrive at dawn. I should probably go and lie down now - look like a hobo and harmless and everything._

Patting the soft grass, Sakura lulled herself to sleep.

* * *

Itachi found himself a ridiculous situation.

There was a child, probably no more than a year or so older than himself asleep in the meadow, a few moments to his family's forests.

He was alert and had scanned the perimeter for anything then proceeded to prod outwards then slowly inwards to where the girl lay for any enchantments or tricks. He found none, he was perplexed too.

On the girl's head lay a mop that resembled cherry blossom petals, her skin littered with a few cuts and bruises most likely from her trek into the forests, and earth-muddled clothing on her back. This was the exact girl they were looking for.

This was team 12's lost person.

His old genin team's lost person. A person they couldn't find within the span of a day. Itachi snapped a little at his line of thought. He didn't take tabs on his old teammates' affairs nor did he track their progress, he just happened on their misplaced folder files.

It was bordering preposterous on how they misplaced such an vital element and if they misplaced their mission files, what more hope did they have to find a small child so far from where they were searching day till night?

It was no wonder his father had urged after a few missions his replacement into another team - but if he had been a normal child, like this one, the boy's eyes found it's way to the petal haired girl, he would have stayed with his team for years, much like every single one of his peers.

Mentally sighing, as his thoughts caught darker tones.

This would not do, he supposed a small hint to his former teammates would not hurt.

* * *

Team 12 for all their efforts, was never truly a complete team.

The original members, Hitachin Samo, Inuzuka Hana and her three Haimaru brothers (which everyone else insisted didn't count, he thought so too but they might as well be included),so from the very start of their conception Team 12 lacked one human member. Two genin (and three puppies) to one jounin instructor.

Their first 'filler member' as they had dubbed them (there were quite a lot) had gone and dropped his ninja career for a civilian one. The second had gone and made himself a career in mail delivery. The third one had gone and gotten himself a promotion. The fourth was absolutely mad and had himself tucked into an asylum. The current one, was with an injury and was holed into the hospital.

They had faith in this one, he just might stay.

But then, hours after release he knocked himself flat with stones. So maybe not after all.

So now, team 12's original members which mainly meant himself, Inuzuka Hana and her dogs (their instructor was somewhere , anywhere, he really couldn't track off. _The lazy sod._ Besides if he counted them off, they made an entire team with an extra person or rather _pup_) were on their knees (and paws) calling out for a lost child.

They'd been at it for at least a day too.

This wasn't going well, was it?

Had he mentioned the dogs misplaced their mission files? (It was the dogs, honest!)

* * *

Itachi found himself lobbed with rock after rock, it didn't hit him but they were fast - too fast for a civilian child's.

He understood why the child was doing so, he would have too, albeit with a different arsenal, attack a stranger approaching him as he slept. He had no choice though, he tried calling out ("Excuse me?") but she wouldn't bulge so he took steps towards her.

"Will you hold still?", she asked as she proceeded to lob more stones, each one with more accuracy than the other.

"Stop trying to hit me then" Itachi raised his voice a little, just enough to carry to the girl.

"Run over there first," she pointed a little shy of too far before continuing, "-and shout why and what are you doing!"

Itachi jumped backwards until she seemed to have dropped her stones.

"Well?" the girl yelled over.

"You're lost" he said, and as if he only confirmed her darkest suspicions she proceeded to knit her brows before throwing a handful of stones scooped in a heartbeat.

He really were perplexed.

[Chapter end]

* * *

TBC.

A/N: I'm not sure whether or not Itachi had a genin team or if he was directly assigned into ANBU at age 2 (just joking), so I took the liberty of having him assigned to a team for a short while before getting bumped up into another more appropriate one and I'm quite sure he'd have to be the youngest of them since he graduated early. I also seem to have this head cannon that Hana Inuzuka was at some point in time Itachi's teammate? But I think not, must be one of my favorite author's influence.

And finally, they meet - meet! Its not much, but it's progress.

So I hope you enjoyed what little I've written and tell me what you think? Yes? No?

R&R!


End file.
